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    Libby Drew
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Gay Authors 2009 Novella Contest Entry

State of Mind - 7. Chapter 7

Aleck and Grier exited the jet into cloying tropical heat. Blinded by the rising sun, Aleck squinted to keep from stumbling down the stairs. Sunglasses would've helped, but the past twenty-four hours had seen him cross half a continent, and he'd barely had the chance to brush his teeth, let alone shop for appropriate island attire.

Dressed in jeans and one of Grier's long-sleeved shirts, an ensemble better suited to spring in New York, he was sweating before he reached the bottom of the steps. Grier looked unaffected by the heat. Aleck shot him an annoyed look, satisfied when he spied a trickle of perspiration run down the man's neck.

The plane taxied off toward a distant hangar, and Aleck glanced around the tarmac. He sensed no imminent danger, but took his cues from Grier's tense posture.

"Where the hell are you, Keev?" Grier muttered. As the words left his lips, a sleek limousine appeared out of the haze. It was approaching at a fair clip, but Grier didn't seem concerned. Wary, Aleck eyed it as he picked at his sticky shirt.

The car slid to a halt ten feet away, kicking up enough dust to make Aleck cough. The driver, a tall, pale man, face etched with wrinkles, got out to open one of the back doors, and a wave of arctic air rolled out. Unprompted, Grier ducked his head and entered the car. Aleck didn't. The immediate danger was behind them. No more following blindly until he had some answers.

A second later, Grier's head reappeared. "What are you waiting for? Get in."

Aleck shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. A cultured voice drifted out of the cool haven. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Grier? You're letting all the hot air in."

Grier shot Aleck an unreadable look. "You're upsetting Keev."

Aleck shrugged. "Too bad."

"Grier?" Keev called. "What sort of uncultured trash have you picked up now? I refuse – do you hear me – refuse to discuss this in a car at the airport. I want my cool house. I want a drink. And preferably, a fuck. But if you're not up to that, I understand. You've had a shitty couple of days, after all."

Aleck wasn't pleased to see Grier fighting a smile. He stepped out of the car, took hold of Aleck's arm, and led them a few feet away. "Aleck, I'm asking you to trust me on this. Not on everything. Just on this. I believe Keev will keep us safe."

"On what evidence are you basing that?"

Grier's lips tightened. "He's my friend."

"Good for you."

"Good for you. You wanted the inside track on what's happening with Graviel. This is where we start."

"Here?" Aleck made sure his voice was pitched high enough to carry into the limo. "With that pompous ass?"

"What the fuck is going on out there?" Keev yelled.

The driver, who looked to be wilting by the second in his black suit and hat, cleared his throat. Aleck took two steps back, out of earshot. Eyes narrowed, Grier followed. "Do you realize what's at stake here?" Aleck asked.

"My life, for one."

"And the lives of many others." The driver cleared his throat again, and Aleck leaned close. "I need you invested in more than just you. If what you've told me is even half true, I need you committed to unraveling this mess."

Grier shook his head. "No. It's too late for that. I said I'd help you uncover the truth. That doesn't include fighting your righteous battles. Keep your high and mighty ideals to yourself. I'm finished with the lot of them."

Aleck shook his head, searching Grier's face. "Even Graviel?"

"Him most of all."

For the first time since they'd met, Aleck sensed untruth behind Grier's words. Oddly, Grier didn't appear to recognize it. "I thought we had a bargain."

"We do. This is me upholding my end." Grier pointed at the limo. "Get in the car."

It wasn't a matter of trust that made Aleck obey, but honor. He'd made a promise, and he planned to follow through. Even if Grier reneged. The chauffer looked relieved when Aleck stepped up to the door. He tipped his hat as Aleck slid inside. Grier followed.

 

After the harsh glare of the Caribbean sun, the interior was cool and dark. Aleck took the seat behind the driver, across from Grier's friend. Grier nodded at him as he settled onto the cool leather next to Keev. It was subtle, almost invisible, but Aleck recognized it for what it was. A thank-you.

The driver slammed the door, cutting out the last of the sunlight, and Aleck peered across the car, wanting a look at the famous Keev Petrova. His blond hair was tied back into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck. Light brown eyes bore into Aleck, measuring. Aleck melted back into his seat. He wasn't intimidated.

"Champagne?" Keev offered, turning to Grier, his gaze an alarming combination of adoring and predatory.

"No, thank you."

Keev tsked his disappointment. "Shame. I hate to drink alone."

"Why not ask Aleck?"

"I think not." Keev's voice dripped disdain. "I imagine the bottle costs more than his entire wardrobe."

Aleck rolled his eyes. Elitist bastard.

Keev sneered at him. "Ill-bred philistine. If my considerable wealth intimidates you, you're more than welcome to ride with the driver."

Startled, Aleck made a subtle probe of Keev's mind, and got an angry sting for his trouble. He glared at Grier. "He's Gifted."

"I'm well aware." Grier stared out his window, fingers drumming on his knee. "Empathic."

Keev gave a dramatic sigh. "Grier, you steal all my fun."

"With the Organization?"

Keev gasped. "Bite your tongue, G.I. Joe. I'd never go slumming with Graviel. And by the way," he leaned forward, "stay the hell out of my head."

"Gladly." Aleck considered the offer of the front seat.

"Suit yourself," Keev said. "I'd welcome a bit of privacy, anyway."

So much for propriety; now the bastard was reading him. Before Aleck could snap a reciprocal warning, his eyes were drawn to Keev's hands, one of which was nestled between Grier's crossed legs. Something reared up in him. He quelled it in a heartbeat, but Keev's widened eyes signaled he'd grasped the stray emotion. Aleck scowled. He hated empaths.

Keev's eyes flashed. "Well, well, well," he whispered.

"What am I missing?" Grier asked as he took in the silent battle of wills.

"Nothing." Aleck turned to the window.

"You're a pretty thing," Keev continued as if Aleck hadn't spoken. "Though you look a bit underfed and over-monitored."

"Fuck off," Aleck muttered.

"Don't you agree, Grier?"

"Let it go."

Keev smug smile grated across Aleck's nerves. "If you insist."

"I do."

Keev fell silent, not that Aleck believed the warning would muzzle the other man for long. Across the car, he heard the rustle of fabric, the clink of a glass, and the low rumble of Grier's voice. Keev's answering laugh was low and intimate.

Aleck set his jaw. He kept his eyes trained to the passing scenery until the car turned onto a wide, paved drive, stopped at a set of high gates, then rolled forward again when they swung open at a signal from the driver. He risked a glance at Grier, but Keev had done a fair job of crawling into his lap, not a spectacle Aleck had any interest in, so he turned back to the window.

The drive wound through a grove of tall, shady palms and down a hill, then burst into the sunshine at the bottom, in front of a sprawling villa. The driver opened the door a moment later. Aleck made sure he was the first out.

He supposed Keev's villa was tasteful – if four floors of bright peach stucco and a half a dozen bougainvillea-draped balconies could be considered so. Fifty foot palms swayed all around the structure and dotted the maze of gardens and courtyards that surrounded the two wings.

Aleck turned from his perusal to find Keev studying him. "What do you think, Aleck?"

"Cheery."

"I aim to please."

"So I gathered," Aleck said under his breath.

"Stop sulking." Keev accepted a leather satchel from his driver, then swept past Aleck and up the wide steps. "There's plenty of Grier to go around."

"I'm not—" But Keev had already disappeared inside. Just as well.

The limo pulled away and circled behind the house, leaving Aleck and Grier alone on the crushed stone drive. Grier's scrutiny was a physical thing, pressing into Aleck's back. "What are we doing here?" Aleck asked.

Grier stepped up beside him. Hands thrust deep into his pockets, he followed Aleck's gaze to the wide front doors of the villa. "Aren't you the least bit curious?"

Aleck arched a brow. "About?"

Grier took his elbow and led him around the side of the house, down a winding path shaded by coconut palms. Aleck shook him off as soon as he could. "About Keev," Grier said.

"And the pilot. And the driver." Aleck kicked at a stray pebble. "They were both Gifted."

"You sensed it."

"Yes. Neither was very strong."

Grier shrugged. He slowed his pace to match Aleck's. "We all have different strengths. There's no rhyme or reason to how our gifts develop."

True enough. "So Keev seeks out and employs Gifteds."

"Yes. So does his father." Grier caught Aleck's arm when he tried to brush past. "Believe it or not, there are those who live and thrive outside the Organization's nurturing umbrella."

"Careful. You sound almost bitter."

"Just almost?" A wry smile flickered across Grier's face.

"What are you trying to say?"

"That there is more to us than the Organization and those who oppose it."

"I know that." Aleck yanked on his arm, but this time Grier held tight. "But I'd rather use my gifts for something useful. I've got no desire to be an errand boy for some rich, spoiled brat.

Grier sighed. He released Aleck so unexpectedly that he stumbled on the loose gravel. "You see the world in black and white, Aleck."

Aleck squared his shoulders. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" Grier shook his head. "Never mind. We're here because Keev has information for us. I can't believe things are as he says, but if they are…" His eyes pinned Aleck in place. "You'll have answers to some of your questions very soon." He motioned Aleck to follow as he started up a smaller path, this one hidden by overgrown foliage. Aleck imagined he navigated around Keev's bedroom with the same ease. The thought kept him rooted in place until the crunch of Grier's footsteps faded.

Through the trees came the gentle smack of waves on sand. The air was thick with the smell of salt and hibiscus. Ignoring Grier's command, Aleck followed the sounds of the ocean, staying on the original trail until it emptied him onto the beach.

Paradise. Keev's villa sat on a perfect arc of sand. A half-mile out to sea, waves broke over a coral reef. Inside the lagoon, the water spilled away from shore in a rainbow of blues, light aqua near the beach, cobalt in the center, and pale blue around the reef. The surface rippled like beveled glass, calm. And probably teeming with sharks.

Something he'd do well to remember.

"Aleck?"

He turned at the unfamiliar voice. The woman who'd appeared at the head of the path beckoned him closer. Exotic features enhanced her dark mocha skin and waist-length, curly hair, which she wore tied back with a swath of purple silk.

That was all she was wearing.

Aleck smirked. Poor Keev. Predictability was such a tragic fault. "Yes?"

"I've been sent to fetch you for lunch." She offered her hand.

"Thank you." Aleck ignored her waggling fingers. "This way?" She nodded and they ducked back into the shade of the trees. "And what is his majesty serving today?"

The woman giggled. "What would please you?" She slithered closer, pressing her breasts against his arm. Aleck peeled her off.

"A cheeseburger and fries?" They crossed a tiled veranda to an open-air dining room. Giant fans turned overhead, and three sets of tall wooden doors were open to the house beyond, spilling air-conditioned air over the table. Keev and Grier were already seated, Keev at the head and Grier to his right. The remaining seats – fourteen of them – were unoccupied. Aleck eyed the ornate covered platters. "But I bet we're having fish eggs or something, right?"

Undaunted, the woman wrapped herself around him again. "Perhaps I could offer something more to your liking."

"No, thanks." Getting free was like detaching a leech. He set her away and pulled out the chair next to Grier. "Fish eggs are fine."

She pouted until Keev sent her away with a wave. "She doesn't please you?"

"Not interested," Aleck answered.

"Why?"

"Not my type."

"No?" At Keev's subtle gesture, a man appeared and began serving food. Impeccably dressed, he flashed a coy smile as he poured wine into Aleck's glass. He was as fair as the beach escort had been dark, hair a pale yellow and eyes a light green. A smattering of freckles covered his nose and cheeks. He didn't look a day over sixteen.

Keev sipped his mimosa. "What's your type?"

Aleck ignored the servant's flirtations and choose ice water over the wine. "The kind you don't have to pay for."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you mean."

"I'm sure. Are you done throwing your concubines at me?"

"Would it be possible," Grier cut in, "to skip ahead to the part where we eat?"

A muscle twitched in Keev's jaw, but he managed a smile. For Grier's benefit, Aleck was sure. "Of course. My apologies. You've had a difficult day."

Aleck snorted.

"Thank you." Grier slipped his napkin into his lap, and the conversation ended.

*~*~*

"So here we are." Keev snapped his fingers, and a different group of women bore away the dishes and uneaten food. All beautiful, these attendants were at least partially clothed in floral-print wraps. After a final check – and a wave from Keev – the last one skittered by on bare feet and slid the mahogany doors closed behind her. "There," Keev said. "Privacy."

Aleck eyed the dense foliage beyond the short stucco wall. "Because nobody could be hiding out there listening."

Before Keev could sputter a denial, Grier nodded. "He's right. This isn't a secure location to discuss the matters at hand."

"There's always my bedroom," Keev purred.

"We're interested in what you're storing in your other brain," Aleck said. "The one you keep in your head."

"Boys." Grier laid a hand on Keev's arm when he would've risen to confront Aleck. "This antagonism is getting tiresome. Isn't there something you can bond over? A favorite toy, perhaps?"

Aleck blanched, and Keev – the bastard – saw it right away. "You're so smart, Grier. It's why I love you." He twirled the dregs of his mimosa around the bottom of his glass. "There is one thing Aleck and I share an affection for."

The barb hit its mark. Discomfited, Aleck rose from the table and paced to the opposite end of the room. He kept his back to Keev and Grier. "If you insist we whore ourselves out for your alleged crucial information," he threw a dismissive glance over his shoulder, "I suppose I've endured worse."

"Why you—Let me go, Grier!"

Aleck turned to watch Grier wrestle Keev to his side. He stood and hauled the younger man out of his chair. Keev glared at Aleck.

Grier's voice put a chill in the air. "This ends now." He strode forward, Keev's arm gripped in his hand, and gestured Aleck ahead of him onto the beach path. "Let's take a walk."

*~*~*

Nobody spoke during the short trip to the lagoon. Once on the sand, Grier gestured Aleck ahead. He went without a fuss, meandering to the shoreline, where he stood watching the water lap at his feet.

Keev's lip curled. "How on earth did you get paired with him?"

"It's a long story. Not—" Grier said, squelching the evil twinkle in Keev's eye – "one you'd be interested in."

"I don't know about that." Keev tugged on his captured arm, and with one last warning look, Grier let him go. While Keev brushed at his wrinkled clothing and mumbled about brutish behavior, Grier watched Aleck.

His hands were out of sight, working at something, but when his shirt billowed open on a light breeze, Grier figured out what. Aleck shrugged the heavy material off his shoulders, and, after hesitating for a moment, tossed it behind him onto the dry sand.

Grier swallowed.

Keev gave an appreciative hum while he brushed at his trousers. "Perhaps I was too quick to judge our dear Aleck."

"Leave him be," Grier snapped, then tempered his tone. "We're not here for your pleasure."

Keev took a break from his grooming. "Oh, not you too."

Rather than acknowledge the cryptic remark, Grier stepped into the sun. The heat descended on him like a heavy blanket. As though he sensed Grier's presence, Aleck glanced over his shoulder. Their eyes met and held.

Behind him, Keev sighed.

"Are you going to help me?" Grier asked.

"Yes. All right, yes." The sullen tone had disappeared. "You've just sucked all the entertainment value from the day anyway." He stuck a loafer-encased toe into the sun. "But it's far too hot to discuss it out here. You fetch Juliet, and I'll ready my office." He forestalled Grier's automatic protest. "It's safe. I promise."

He turned up the path, disappearing behind a mass of giant fronds. Steeling himself for another fight, Grier crossed the sand. By the time he reached the shoreline, he wanted to shed his own shirt, the humidity was so thick. Continuing their business in the house, spying eyes or not, was gaining appeal.

"Aleck."

"Yeah?"

Caught off-guard by the quiet tone, Grier paused. Aleck's shoulders were straight, his head high. Still, through the remnants of their mental connection, Grier could sense tendrils of uncertainty and self-doubt – the last two emotions he expected. They made him uneasy. And, if he were honest, protective. Laughable, since Aleck had demonstrated more than once in the past two days that he was anything but helpless.

Grier shook off his ruminations. "Keev's called a truce. He's ready to talk if you're ready to listen."

He expected skepticism, but Aleck nodded. "Lead the way."

*~*~*

Keev glanced up as Grier and Aleck entered his study. "Close the door, Grier."

Grier ran his fingers over the curved handle. "Where's the lock?"

"I've got it." The panel under his desk controlled everything from the door locks to the level of tint on his windows. He gestured for them to sit, and Aleck dropped into a black wicker chaise, a picture of nonchalance. Grier opted for a straight-backed chair facing the desk. Keev leaned back, steepling his finger under his chin. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"

Aleck arched an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut. Grier nodded. "What do you know?"

"That pertains to your situation? Possibly nothing. Possibly everything. Who knows what the truth is anymore?" He directed this last at Aleck, stripping his usual sarcasm from the words.

Aleck rubbed his forehead and frowned.

"Tell me about your father and Graviel," Grier said. "You intimated they'd formed a partnership of sorts."

Keev gave a short, disbelieving laugh. "Yes, who could've seen that coming, I ask you."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Aleck cut in.

"And loose lips sink ships. Thank you, Aleck, for exceeding our quota of idioms for the afternoon," Keev said, without rancor.

"It's the truth," Grier said, but Keev waved him off.

"I do hope you're not referring to my father. Desperate is one thing that man is not."

"You're implying that Graviel initiated things." Aleck scooted to the edge of the chair and sat with his elbows on his knees. "That's not outside the realm of possibility. He tends to think outside the box. If he considered such a merger beneficial, he well may have pursued it."

"But for what purpose?" Grier asked. "And why now?"

"I've heard," Keev slid his fingers over his lips, weighing his next words, "that there's a new faction of Gifteds gaining power."

Silence from Grier and Aleck implied the information was new to them.

"Like a gang?" Aleck ventured.

"Nothing so innocuous, I'm afraid. These people put even my father on edge. They're determined to upset the balance of things. Rumor has it that a few have managed to insinuate themselves near the top of the world's most powerful governments."

Aleck slouched backward. "Oh, please. We're speaking of elected officials here. No Gifted can influence an entire election."

"One wouldn't need to be at the heart of things to do damage," Grier reminded him. "A Gifted secretary, even a janitor, if given opportunity, could change the world."

Said so plainly, it was unnerving. Aleck must've have felt the same. With a muffled curse, he rose from his chair and paced the room. Grier watched him; Keev studied them both. "Their activities have become bolder of late," he added.

"This is all coming from your father?"

Keev nodded, and the lines around Grier's eyes grew deeper.

"It would be so easy," Aleck said as he stalked the length of the room. "They'd have to do little more than sow mistrust."

"A danger in even the best of political climates," Keev said.

"Why, though?"

Keev blinked. "Money?" His tone carried a hearty dose of condescension. "Just a guess."

"A good one, I'd wager," Grier muttered. "Could this be just smoke and mirrors? Are we sure this faction exists?"

"My father believes it does. Graviel knows it does." Keev played his fingers over the top of his desk before adding, "So do you." That caught their attention. "The peace summit bombing," he said.

Grier's eyes flashed. "Those terrorists—?"

"Were an offshoot of the main group," Keev finished, then choked when a tidal wave of anger crashed over him. He rose to his feet, but Aleck got there first, crouching next to Grier's chair while he spoke in a low, soothing tone. Jealousy wasn't an emotion Keev allowed himself. He pushed it away, swallowing something that tasted like loss.

"That doesn't make any sense," Aleck said. "Graviel put Grier undercover to destroy that group."

"Not his best work, I hear." Keev weathered Grier's furious look. "You were set up to fail, my friend."

"I'd figured that part for myself." Grier sat back, rubbing at his eyes. "Where does your father fit into all this?"

"He's been gathering his people for months. And now, I'm told, he's approached the Organization about a partnership."

"A partnership?"

"Common enemy and all." Keev stood and made his way to the wet bar near the window. He'd darkened the glass to a deep charcoal grey to keep out the midday sun. Reflective on the outside, bulletproof, and impervious to long-distance listening equipment, it was state of the art and unbelievably decadent. He'd installed it last year, believing it another shiny toy, nothing more.

But it had come in handy today, and didn't that threaten to plunge him into a foul mood. He thrust his hand into the ice well, then hissed when his finger caught on a razor-sharp shard. "Damn it." He held it over the sink while he fumbled for a napkin.

"Here. Let me."

Keev startled at Aleck's voice, but what shocked was his gentle touch. He wrapped a bar towel around the tip of Keev's bleeding finger, then scooped some ice into a crystal tumbler and – after a sideways glance – filled it with sparkling water.

Keev took a long, thoughtful sip before speaking. "Thank you."

"Are you all right?" Grier came up behind him, allowing Aleck to escape.

"Fine. Where were we?"

"Common enemy."

"Ah." He returned to his seat, still cradling his finger close to his stomach and eyeing Aleck. "Well, it's self-explanatory, isn't it? United front and all that rubbish. Graviel has allowed my father's people to join some of their current operations. In return, Roman shares intelligence with the Directorate about the activities of this new group as it comes to him."

Aleck spoke up. "You're talking in circles. Whose side are you accusing Graviel of helping? Do you expect me to believe that Roman Petrova, your father – one of the most self-serving men on the planet, if Grier's opinion is anything to go by – is concerned about the level of suffering in the world?"

Keev laughed. "He is a bastard, isn't he?"

Grier snorted as he raided the bar, plopping ice cubes one by one into his glass.

"Say what you will about my father, Aleck, but his interests are diversified and profitable in peace time. He has no desire to see the world at war. Graviel, on the other hand…his fingers have been in every international incident for the past twenty years. No one understands the workings of the world's governments better than he. Who knows what motivates him?"

"I do," Grier answered. "The Organization. It's his child. His prodigal. He wouldn't take kindly to having it threatened. By anybody."

Keev rocked back in his chair. "Even by the most powerful people in the world?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"That the bombing was a warning?" Keev spread his hands in front of him. "A statement."

"By whom? And to whom?" Grier returned to his seat. He'd chosen something a bit stronger than water, Keev saw. "And why would Roman align himself with Graviel if he believes the man a traitor?"

"I didn't say I had all the answers, Grier."

"Who's leading this mysterious group?" Aleck asked.

"I don't know."

Silence followed his statement. Hunched over, eyes on the floor, Aleck radiated an agitation so thick it made Keev's skin crawl. Grier twirled melting ice cubes round the bottom of his glass. "What else can you tell us?"

"Not much. I'm included in very little, you know."

"By your own choice."

"Yes." He was the proverbial black sheep, with no interest in his father's plans for grandeur and power. The methods turned his stomach, something Roman accepted, though not with any measure of grace. The kindest thing he ever said about his son was that he knew his own mind. His criticisms were more cutting, but as Keev had little more than a thimbleful of love for the man, the barbs flew wide.

"I don't trust your father," Grier said.

"I know." Few did, and with good reason.

"Be careful."

"Always," Keev replied with an untroubled smile. His personal safety wasn't something he'd worried over in the past. How things did change.

Grier and Aleck shared a glance – Keev beat down another wave of jealousy – then Grier snatched a slip of paper from the desk. He jotted something down and handed it to Keev. "Call if you discover anything else that might help us."

"Us?"

A muscle twitched in Grier's jaw. "Aleck."

Keev accepted the paper. "A new cell phone?"

"No. And I'll be disposing of the old one soon. That number's for a message service. Just leave your name. I'll be in touch."

"A message service," Keev said with a sneer. "How very 1980. Very well, but I'd like the same courtesy, if you don't mind." Involved or no, it paid to be well-informed. He slipped the phone number into his pocket. "And now, as I promised, transportation. Where would you like to go?"

Grier thought for a moment. "Somewhere where Graviel and Roman can't find us."

"The South Pole?"

"Richmond, Virginia," Aleck said. Then, to Grier, "I have a friend in that area. She can help us."

"No. There'll be an agent on every person you know, down to your paperboy, hoping they'll be the lucky one to find us when we surface."

"Nobody in the Organization knows these people. I've made sure. Grier," he said, when the other man started to shake his head, "They have a place we can hide. You've done what you said you would, but I still have my portion of the bargain to fulfill."

Keev hummed and meandered to the bar. "Ooh. That sounds promising. Take pictures, Grier." He laughed at Aleck's blush, but fell silent when his gaze caught the bloody towel wrapped around his finger.

"Grier." Aleck said. "Trust me."

Keev went still, hand hovering over the decanter of brandy. From the corner of his eye, he saw Grier nod. Jaw tight, he poured a double shot. "Richmond, it is."

Copyright © 2010 Libby Drew; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Gay Authors 2009 Novella Contest Entry
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